The Painted Veil
by Ivory Black
Summary: Lift not the painted veil which whose who live call life.Caught in a tangled web of lies, in middle of a war, and in hearts of two men, the choice between her duty and her heart is never easy, especially when the truth tastes much bitter than the lies. AU
1. Prologue wheel of fortune

**Disclaimer:** everything recognisable is not mine, but J.K.R's. The poem is not mine either. I am neither dead nor rich.

**Cautions:** Historical AU. This story disregard all seven books, and it is set in a historical AU, somewhere like the middle ages, only characters, spells and such will remain somewhat the same.

* * *

**The painted veil**

Lift not the painted veil which those who live

Call Life: though unreal shapes be pictured there,

And it but mimic all we would believe

With colours idly spread,—behind, lurk Fear

And Hope, twin Destinies; who ever weave

Their shadows, o'er the chasm, sightless and drear.

I knew one who had lifted it—he sought,

For his lost heart was tender, things to love,

But found them not, alas! nor was there aught

The world contains, the which he could approve.

Through the unheeding many he did move,

A splendour among shadows, a bright blot

Upon this gloomy scene, a Spirit that strove

For truth, and like the Preacher found it not.

By Percy Bysshe Shelley

* * *

**Prologue – Wheel of fortune**

_The Wheel of Fortune: Change, evolution, success, good fortune, fate. Happiness, abundance. New conditions._

* * *

The misty rays of light faintly traced the outline of the dark woods. A small figure stumbled across the tangled roots of these gigantic trees, which stood proudly as they blockaded the sun. The hood of the figure's cloak fell, revealing a bushy mess of brown one called hair, someone would easily confuse the small girl for a hairy animal.

The wood is silent apart from her rushing steps, occasionally interrupted by a few animal howls. The small girl did not hear them, her mind was not on any beasts, but she could not ignore resonating screams in her mind caused by the brutes that named themselves human.

War was a terrible thing, she doubted she would ever forget any scenes she saw not long ago. Any dark woods was better than the burning town she left behind, at least the animals killed for food, she could not understand why man hunted their own kind without any apparent logical justifiable reasons. She would rather satisfy a carnivore's stomach than pieced by a meaningless arrow that only seeks destruction.

So she ran.

As fast as she could, she ran into the forbidden woods, unwittingly leaving her sanctuary for the past months, leaving an old life and an event that would later be recorded in history books. She ran until her legs could not carry her anymore, until her small frame cut and bruised from the unforgiving woods, until her eyelids dropped and covered her large brown eyes. Her all too skinny face relaxed, and her exhausted body sank to the ground.

Resting in peaceful slumber for an unknown period of time, she was awoken by a stranger's muttering.

'So similar,' a handsome dark haired man stared down at her, eyes flicker with something she could not quite make out. Recognition? Regret? It couldn't be, she had never once seen him before.

She instinctively drew away.

'I won't hurt you', he put a hand on her shoulder. Somehow, she felt assured. Yet, she could not bring herself to trust his words, she could not bring herself to trust that prefect mask of his which one called face. Uncertainty was the only thing she trusted and was certain about for the past months, this trust or the lack of had preserved her, simultaneously robbed her of her childish innocence. She froze, as he picked her up from the ground. With a wave of a wooden stick and a load crack, they vanished into thin air.

The wood was silent again.

* * *

**Ten years later**

Like a diamond necklace, a spider's web glistening with dew under the morning sun. A spider crawled to the middle of the web, carefully avoiding the tiny water droplets, found a dry spot and settled down waiting for its prey. The web is set, and the spider is ready.

They could not believe the ease of attacking the escort party. It was almost too good to be true. The guards were mostly non-magical, and the few magical did not match their duelling expertise, stemmed from their extensive field experience.

'Harry!! Over here!!' A red-haired girl yelled, as she twirled around and stunned another guard, face flushed pink prettily.

'I am sure it is this carriage.' she reported to the black-haired boy who ran to her. Correction, man, she flushed inwardly. Harry had changed greatly for the past years, for better of course, as his unruly black hair fell in front of those gorgeous green eyes, as his…

'Ginny?' Harry asked, 'are you sure?'

She wanted to smacked herself, how could she be ogling him under this circumstance. Luckily, she did not think he noticed.

'Of course, look at the decorations and the size of it,' she said exultantly. 'A daughter of the Duchess will surely have the biggest and the pinkest' she added with distaste.

They did not prepare for the sight inside the carriage. Much more tastefully decorated than the pink exterior, it was magically enlarged to the extent that a whole family with excellent reproductive ability could comfortably live there.

'What are you doing here?' a melodious voice asked, the owner of which stepped out and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. But she never got her answer before a shout of stunning spell, and she slid to the floor.

'I will take her,' Harry said, 'tell the others that mission accomplished. Let's get out of here.'

They made for a quick exit.

* * *

Ginny was bored, who wouldn't be if they sat a room for hours with nothing to do, even when a moth peaked her interest when it crashed into a spider web in the corner of the wall. She would not understand why Harry did not seem to be sharing her current state of mind.

'Are you sure we got the bride?' Ginny asked again.

'Not again, Ginny. You were the one that was so sure about it before.' Harry replied. 'I am sure that your unfaultable logic with that pink carriage is correct.'

'I was sure about the carriage, but this girl,' she looked down on the still unconscious girl on the bed. 'There is just something that doesn't fit. She is pretty and all that, with nice gown. But there is no jewellery, no nothing. Shouldn't she be covered head to toe with diamonds? And where is the engagement ring?'

'Maybe she just didn't care much for jewellery, and he hasn't given her the ring yet' Harry suggested and started quietly observing the girl again much to Ginny's dismay.

She knew something wasn't right, called it female intuition if one liked, but there was something out of place. She knew her previous description of the girl was a huge understatement, the girl was far more than just pretty. Eyes closed tightly, few brown curls escaped her elegant hair-do framing her delicate face. She would be prefect to play sleeping beauty, ready to be kissed and awoken, Ginny snorted.

The gown she worn was of the finest silk, hugging her small slender frame. Ginny jealously touched the silk, how she wished to have a silk dress, there aren't been many luxuries around here since the Malfoys had their trade blockaded. Despite the dress, the lack of engagement ring on her hand seriously worried Ginny. All effort wasted if they haven't got the real fiancé of the younger Malfoy. She mentally smacked herself again for thinking in this direction, of course they got the right girl, who else would have such a dress?

The girl stirred slightly, effectively stopping Ginny in her mental rant, and snapping Harry out of his gaze. Her eyelids fluttered, and finally opened, revealing her dark brown eyes. She blinked for a few times, clearly confused, and pushed her self up to a sitting position.

Ginny waited for her to stare at them, scream and faint, or at least going into hysteria. To her surprise, it never came. In fact, was it a hint of a smile she saw on her face that was gone before it could materialise? The girl gave a glance to her surrounding, then looked at them with one eyebrow raised again, and if demanding an explanation. Ginny suddenly felt the urge to pluck that perfectly arched eyebrow, how dare the girl assume she could command over them.

Harry stepped forth, and gave the girl a little bow.

'My name is Harry Potter, this is Ginny Weasley. I assure you, Milady, that we wish you no harm' Harry said diplomatically 'our intention for your predicament is not against you, rather someone close to you.'

The girl remained silent for few seconds.

'Draco Malfoy, isn't it? You wanted something out of the Malfoys. So you kidnapped me.' She said blankly, as a matter of fact, as if she was not involved at all. 'So what is it you want from them?' in a more interested tone 'peace? a stop the war? They will hardly halt the war to save their own grandmother'.

Ginny was surprised again, a Malfoy bride-to-be with such a low opinion of her future family?

'We only want them to release a couple of prisoner. Insignificant to them, but dear to us. Surely a fiancée is worth that.'

'You are wrong, Mr. Potter. They will not lift a finger for me.' She stated in a blank tone again. Then with a small smile, she said the words Ginny dread.

'For I am not the one marrying Draco Malfoy.'

* * *

**A/N:** Every chapter's name will be a tarot card. Other characters and pairings will slowly appear. Will be written in different POV.

Once again, I repeat, this is not set in HP universe, and nothing at all like the HP plot

R&R


	2. Temperance

**Disclaimer:** Like in the first chapter, and every chapter that follows, HP is not mine

**A/N: **different narrative POVs

* * *

**Temperance**

_Art/Temperance Careful consideration, patience, moderation, adaptation, tempering, self-control.To temper, to combine, to exercise self-restraint.Patience, bringing together two opposites carefully blending them. Good marriage. Working in harmony with others, good management. Something is brewing. Great talent and creative involvement.Striving for Transcendence through works.Alchemy.The union of opposites refined by the fire of the Will._

* * *

In a lavishly decorated room, a beautiful woman was smiling to herself. Still holding the letter about her daughter's safe arrival, the Duchess Zabini couldn't help wonder that life was good. Her good for nothing daughter finally had some use, marrying into the Malfoy family. All those praises about her daughter's legendary beauty made her want to laugh, if only they knew. She was quite dismayed with her daughter's reputation of virginal beauty, while hers was in line of immoral seductress.

Although she was not magical, she could bewitch any men better than any witch with their enchantment or potion. People assumed that the sole tool of her enchantment was her look, how wrong they were. True that her long black hair enveloped her with an air of dark mystery, cerulean eyes shone with deceptive innocence, refined features of a classic beauty, and tall, curvy figure as twenty years old, all these could easily entrap a man at first sight. However, the true art of seduction was a subtle and intricate affair, and she was the master of it.

As the only legitimate child, she inherited her land from her amorous father, whom spawn her many half siblings. Before the war, she enlarged her fortune and land through marriages, while keeping her maiden name, changing her name would be too complicated with the number of husbands she had. She had not been married since the war started ten years ago. It was too dangerous to ally herself with one single side or man, as her land was located right in the west border of the two sides. Caught in between the two fighting sides, she had to ensure the survival of herself and her people. Cautiously, she waltzed on the delicate balance of the two sides, enchanting men from both sides to leave her land alone. She never went for the leaders of either side, knowing that it was too dangerous.

Imagine her surprise when Lucius Malfoy came to her palace, and proposed an union between his son and her daughter, Pansy. As pretty her daughter was now, the naïve girl had not inherited anything from her, except her blue eyes. Her daughter was more like the father, her third or was it forth husband, with blonde hair and timid nature. Even her son, Blaise, although handsome with her aristocratic features and black hair, turned out to be a hopeless romantic. She considered her motherhood an utter failure, none of her children learned her charms and ways to do so. At least, she had passed her art, knowledge and expertise on to someone else, even if it was not her family.

She was suspicious of the motive of the proposal at first. The Malfoys' couldn't possibly want her fortune, or her tiny piece of land. Her family was not magical, and her power only corresponded to each man she ensnared. She really could not see what the Malfoy had to gain in this union. Did they really believe her daughter's reputation?

He responded to her unspoken suspicion that he only wanted a daughter in law that matched his son's status. His statement was greeted with a charming smile on the surface, but the Duchess was not a fool to be convinced so easily. Regardless of his motive, how could she refuse? Her political alliance had changed in the instance she agreed to the engagement.

She thought about putting all stake on the Malfoy's side, after all, they would be family. She peered at the elder Malfoy under her eyelashes seductively, as she plotted her next romantic conquest. After all, he was a widow, his wife, Narcissa, had been dead for ten years, and all her husbands had been buried underground long ago. Besides, he was powerful, in both political and magical sense, and he was more than wealthy, not that she needed it but it was always a nice addition. Lastly, he was intimidatingly handsome with silvery blond hair and steel cold eyes, the image of an alluring devil, how prefect would their children be, not like the pitiful ones she had. An union between herself and the elder Malfoy would certainly be more profitable.

She had heard about wizard's ability to read mind and thoughts before, and she was absolute positive that Lucius Malfoy used it on her that day. She was already suspicious of it when he first answered her silent question regarding her daughter, but when he stared into her eyes as if he could read her soul, her charming smile faded. He told her in an unforgiving tone that she should halt that ridiculous fantasy of hers and he would not be forgiving next time if she disrespected his late wife's again.

Never had the Duchess Zabini been so insulted before, nor had she ever been rejected before. She was too frighten to fume about her displeasures while he was still present, she had only seen such blazing fervent eyes when he mentioned his late wife in people that were under influence of a strong love potion. Once he left, she angrily threw a vase at a wall. How dare that man reject her!

If Lucius Malfoy wanted a daughter in law only, maybe she should pay a long overdue call to Sirius Black. After all, she had a balance to keep.

* * *

Time seemed to stand still in the room, neither he nor Ginny could seem to process what the girl just announced. Her small smile turned into light chuckle seeing their faces, which he imagined must be priceless. So Ginny was right, Harry admitted resignedly. What were they going to do now? What about Ron and all the other prisoners? He was counting on this mission to get them out. Why hadn't he checked for her identity more thoroughly? Ginny must be so disappointed, with her bother stuck in the Malfoy's dungeon for who knew how long.

Harry dimly registered that the girl got out of bed and on her feet. She curtseyed gracefully, and in a mockingly respectful tone,

'Hermione Granger, at you service, Sir.'

Hermione! Eyes widened, Harry could not believe it. He focused his eyes on her again, looking for little clues. Brown hair, brown eyes, yes, he did thought her to be familiar before, but that still didn't prove that she was the Hermione he met ten years ago.

As if knowing his thoughts, or just annoyed by her disarrayed curls, Hermione Granger let down her hair. A waterfall of curls descended to her back, it was hard to believe that her elegant up-do she wore a moment ago contained so much hair.

It was her. Harry would never forgot that hair. He did not know what to say or think. She gave him a little smile again, and said honestly yet condescendingly for their foolishness.

'I apologise for disrupting with your plan, Mr. Potter. This was not my intention. I extend my utmost regret to your friends. Had you entered the other room in the carriage, you would have found the real bride. I am merely a humble handmaiden of Miss Zabini, and the Duchess wanted me to travel along to care for her.'

Whether it was mockery or a real apology, Harry felt heat radiating from his face. There she was, kidnapped by them, and she was apologising to them? When had he fallen so low kidnapping defenceless woman. This must be karma, punishing him by letting him captured the wrong person for carrying out such a shameful plan. Yet fate allowed him to see her again.

The door slammed, he then realised that Ginny just ran out.

'Go after her' Hermione said quietly, 'she needs you more than I do.'

With a nod, Harry left the room.

* * *

It was getting dark. A hooded stiletto stood at the edge of a forest, casting a long thin shadow behind. One arm reached for a branch, a snake moved from the branch and entwined with the arm. The hissing wind soon joined by the hissing of the snake, maybe even of the figure. But if there was no one to hear it, did it really make a sound? The snake slithered soundlessly away to the branch, disappeared into the forest. With a load crack, the figure dissapparated too.

* * *

He found her sitting by the lake, facing the water that was stained by the dwindling sun into a curious mix of deep blue and dark red. It was truly a beautiful sight, Harry thought, though he was uncertain whether he meant her or the lake and the darkening sky that was smeared into a 

shade of blood red. She had changed into a common grey dress, but on her, it looked fit for a lady. Her eyes were not focused, like two empty bottomless pits with no definite line separating the dark brown iris with the black pupil in the dark. Deep in thoughts, she did not seem to notice his arrival.

To get her attention, he cleared his throat.

She looked up at him, gave him a small smile, not one of mockery they received before, but one that softened her entire features. He could not help to notice that he smiled in return, but he did not notice her eyes were unchanged.

'Your godfather came to talk to me after you left.' She said, gazing back to the water again.

'I know, Sirius told me afterwards.' Harry did not know what else to say, an apology?

Awkward silence settled between them, until she asked

'How is Miss Weasley?'

'She is fine now.' He answered, and added after another few seconds of silence 'thank you for your concern.' He paused, and continued 'I want… I want to apologise… hmm… for our…'

She looked up at him again, and asked, 'Are we going to continue this meaningless apology and move on to the topic of weather?' with one eyebrow raised again, 'Or do you really want to say?'

Harry felt heat radiating from his face again. He did have so many questions, but his tongue could not get one word out. He looked down at her, who was smiling at him again. She reached for his left wrist, and gently pulled him down. She did not release of her hold of him once he sat down. Rather, she pulled away his sleeve, and held his wrist in front of her. On his wrist, two rows of small faint elongate scars formed a half moon, it was obvious that they were teeth marks of a child. He felt a soft cool finger slid over them, but his attention was on her eyes, was it a glimmer of moist he saw, or was it a trick of light?

'I am sorry,' she whispered, 'I didn't mean to give you those. Ten years. They should be gone now.'

'Who would have thought that you would resort to such an unladylike act?'Harry joked, ignoring the tightened sensation in his chest.

She playfully hit his arm. They sat contently in silence, lost in memories, till the sun sank below the lake and darkness engulfed them.

* * *

**A/N: **next chapter more about HHr's past, DHr will come much later.


	3. The Chariot

**Disclaimer: **still not mine

**A/N: **_Italic _is the past

* * *

**The Chariot**

_The chariot Triumph of the will, to surmount opposition, success. Self-control, ability to determinate the own destiny. Good news. Great physical and mental strength. Swiftness. The transitory power. Travel._

* * *

_Harry grabbed her, effectively stopped the distressed girl rushing out. One arm around her waist, another hand on her month, he held her close. He didn't know why he did it, perhaps because he thought it wasn't wise for anyone to interfere with his godfather's business and that he should stop anyone that planned to do it, or perhaps because he sensed that she would be in grave danger if she ran out, or perhaps because he had deduced that she was 'the child' his godfather announced to be wanted, or perhaps because he just didn't want to get in trouble alerting his presence to his godfather. For whatever reason, he did it, he stopped her. He wasn't suppose to be here, he came because he heard the town's folk spoke of major event going on in this little wood after he sneaked out of the castle. He had slipped through the crowd, found a nice hiding spot close to the scene, and to his surprise, he found a bush haired girl already hiding there. _

_She struggled, muffled cries and huge droplets of tears escaped. It wasn't easy for a ten years old boy to keep a ten years old girl down, luckily, she was too upset to seriously fight him back. They were hiding in a large wild grown bush, obscured completely to the crowd of spectators and the individuals responsible for this spectacle. No one played attention to the strange noise from the bush, they were too captivated to notice. The two children too, looked reluctantly at the scene through the branches. _

_A woman, beautiful with long flowing hair and pure white robes, kneeled in front of several richly dressed men. Her head held high, her pose dignified, she looked at the men as if they were kneeling in front of her. Of which the most prominent, the sovereign lord from the Noble and Ancient House of Black, Sirius Black stood in front of her, was extending a sword, handle towards her. His brow furrowed, eyes apologetical, and in an almost pleading voice asked her, 'the child, just tell us where the child is. You are my cousin after all, we could...'_

_Before he finished, the woman snatched the sword, and with a swift motion, turned it and pieced into her own chest. She gave a weak laugh, 'my dear cousin, did you really think that I would trade my child's life for my own? You knew me better than that' then sank to the ground, motionless. _

_The incessant feeble struggle from the little girl stopped, like the body on the ground, she was frozen, eyes widened and vacant, even her breath stopped, but unlike the body, she was very much alive. Motionless, Harry held her till the body was carried away and crowd dispersed. Sirius Black was the last to leave, Harry had never seen his godfather like this before, like he could not comprehend what just happened, he was still staring at the spot the body had laid, much like the girl. Finally, he looked up, and glanced around. He stopped his gaze at their bush for a few seconds, then with a small shake of his head and a sigh, he walked away. _

_When they were finally alone in the whole area, the girl awakened her immobile state. Unfortunately for Harry, she did so faster than him, grabbing the hand he still held over her _

_month, she bit into his wrist hard, and freed herself. Harry shrieked and jumped back. As she proceeded to run away, He grabbed her hand again. _

'_Who are you?' he asked. _

'_Hermione.' She stated blankly, then gave a bitter snort 'I suppose using the surname Black is out of question.' _

_She ran away. As quickly as she appeared in his life, she disappeared as fast, leaving him to nurse a bleeding wrist._

'I never thank you for what you did that day.' Her voice was a bit shaken, 'did you know you saved my life?'

Harry did know. He was so curious about her and the woman that in spite of possible punishment he asked Sirius about them days later. The answer he got was that it was adult's business. When he asked again months later, Sirius promised to tell him when he grew up. He did not confront Sirius again years later. During which he had already figured the rough truth from rumours and gossips.

The woman was Sirius distant cousin, last of the other surviving branch of Black. Years ago she refused to enter a prearranged marriage, and by the custom of their land she was doomed to live in isolation and to take a vow of chastity. She broke her vow and had a child, whom she hid for ten years, and as far as Harry understood, the child in question was Hermione. According to grapevine, the nobility found out about it eavesdropping to a conversation between her and Narcissa, who was back to visit her bother at the time. She was confronted with two options, either suicide to clear her tarnish on her family's esteemed name, or hand over her child, who would naturally be killed. They saw her choosing the first option with their own eyes that day. The child was never found.

'It isn't me you should thank, it's Sirius.' He couldn't see her expression in the darkness, but there was either a surprised intake of breath or a snort, he couldn't quite decipher. 'I asked him about that day years later. He knew we were in the bush. He let us, you go.' She was silent, whether pondering about Sirius act of mercy towards her or the lack of towards her mother he did not know. Harry quickly added to justify his godfather, 'he told me he was really sorry about what happened, he didn't have a choice back then, all the nobles were pressuring him to defend the honour of his house.'

'He wasn't the one that lost a mother,' blank, without even a slight undertone of blame whatsoever.

'But he did lose a family member.'

Silence.

Changing the topic, she continued, 'He must have recognised me, he seemed quite shocked to see me before. He didn't say anything though.'

'I guess so, you do look a lot like your mother.' Harry meant it as a compliment and hoped that she would take it as so.

'It's the only thing I have left from her.' She answered, not sounding offended or flattered. He began to give up trying to decipher her.

Desperately wanted to do something other than the uncomfortable conversation about her decreased mother, Harry took out his wand, performed a summoning spell and ignited the pile of small branches he summoned. A nice bonfire appeared in front of them as Hermione gasped in delight.

'Magic,' she exclaimed.

Surprised by her reaction, Harry asked, 'you are not a witch?' Considering the Blacks were always magical, he assumed her to be one was well. 'Isn't your mother one?' Great, back on the topic of her mother again, he thought sarcastically.

'She is. I am not. I guess whoever my father was is not a wizard.'

'You don't know your father? But your surname, Granger?'

'It means farmer, common and plain, just what I need.' another blank statement.

'So what happened to you after that day?' He finally managed the question he longed to ask for years.

'Nothing much, I left, became the Zabinis' maid, got kidnapped, so here I am.'

'Brilliant summary.' He commented sarcastically. 'How about a longer version?'

'Tsk. tsk. Mr. Potter, has your mother not taught you not to pry into another people personal life?' she teased him.

Harry kept a straight face, and told her 'my parents are dead, Ms. Granger. I am an orphan since cradle'

It was priceless, how her expression changed, from the teasing smile to a wide-eyed shock, then to a horrified gape when she realised her tactlessness, and when she stuttered an apology 'I, I am so sorry. I didn't know. I didn't mean to offend…' Moments like this made her more like Ginny, homey and real, less like an unattainable gentle lady or an epitome of perfection.

Harry laughed aloud, 'Relax, Hermione. I don't remember my parents at all, no offense taken at all. I didn't know you will actually fall for it. I hope you will forgive me, milady, for my despicable behaviour'

She made an adorable little offended face, he noticed, and hit his arm again, with more force than last time. 'Hell hath no fury like a woman's scorn. I wouldn't hope for much, Mr. Potter, if I were you.'

* * *

The battered castle still stood magnificently, with only a fraction of the splendour it had before the war, it was still a hopeful remainder that all is not lost yet. The decay and wounds of war were more obvious inside, tapestries skewed, dusty corners and windows, chandeliers abandoned for more practical torches, its inhabitants were obviously more concerned with other matters, namely the war. The interior was a ghostly reminder of the former glory of the house of Black the old ways of the aristocrats here.

The gentry of this land had slowly vanished, one by one, through a series of events, war, misfortunes, and accidents, though Harry highly doubted the validity of these 'accidents'. Only the most prominent Blacks remained, correction, one Black. Harry himself was the last of Potter, but he had never been fond of the old noble way of living nor any of the families of gentry, Sirius being an exception. He found their etiquette tedious, their character snobbish, their company dull, their protocol pointless, and their hierarchy repulsive. He much preferred the company of more earthy people, like the old but unprivileged Weasley family. But in times of war, class did not matter. He was happy that the ignorant customs of the noble were gone if it were not for the fact that the war was the cause. The gentry suffered and lost as much as the common folks, even the Black, the tattered castle was the prefect proof.****

Arm in arm, they talked through the cold deserted corridor, heels clicking, and the hem of her dress stroked the smooth marbles.

'Hermione?' he asked, when he felt her stop. She was looking at a tapestry of the Black family tree. The end of which only had one name, Sirius Black. There were few burn marks next to his name, clearly, her mother's name one of the erased.

'Why?' she asked softly.

'She disobeyed their protocols. It wasn't Sirius that burn…'

She cut him off, 'I don't mean my mother. I meant the other three marks.'

'Oh, those are the Malfoys. Why should we keep the names of our enemies on the family tree?' Harry couldn't keep the venom out of his voice when speaking about the Malfoys, 'Even though Narcissa, Sirus sister, died right before the war, she was guilty by wedlock.'

He heard her whispered 'what fools men are, family turned against their own. All for what?'

All for what? In his mind, Harry echoed.

* * *

**A/N: **In the next chapter, the plot deepens, BZ will make an appearance, and a change of scenery, GW and BZ point of view.


	4. The Fool

**Disclaimer:** Do I have the initial JKR? No, so not mine.

**A/N:** AU, characters only consistent with their nature and nurture in this universe, may or may not be similar to HP universe. So I would not consider them as OOC.

* * *

**The Fool**

_The Fool Immaturity, sincerity, the natural man, a free spirit. One who naturally knows his will and is worry free. A dreamer, careless and disinterested in practical matters.Travel._

* * *

Ginny found Harry on his way to Hermione's room, again. She would be a fool if she hadn't notice how taken he was with the Granger girl, in fact how the whole male population in the castle was taken with her in just the few days. Not that Ginny cared, but she couldn't help but noticed that they complied with her every whim, treating her if she was a noble lady when she was obviously only a maid.

However, Ginny did get alarmed by the fact how fast Harry was treating her as an old friend, or possibly more. If she didn't know better, Ginny thought with dripping sarcasm, she would have thought her to be a veela or a siren from the myths with that captivating quality of hers. Serving that infamous Duchess must certainly have taught the girl a few tricks. The problem was that Ginny could not see her playing any obvious tricks at all, the girl acted natural, and men naturally flocked to her. Too natural for Ginny's taste.

Only Sirius seemed to avoid her, yet he showered her with gifts, jewellery and dresses that once belonged to his female relatives. She had accepted the dresses, but refused the jewellery, the sole accessory she ever wore was a small ornate wooden hairpin, even with her hair down.

She stopped her musing, and focused on the issue on hand.

'Harry, I need to talk to you.' Ginny said after she cornered him, 'in private.'

'Sure, there is no one here.' Mild surprise and confusion were evident on his face.

'More private,' she proceeded to drag him into a nearby empty room.

The mirror room, it used to be called, and was one of the many drawing rooms used to entertain guests. Hundreds of gilded mirror of different shape and size coated the wall, and one huge covered the entire ceiling, reflecting the artistic patterned mosaic floor. It used to be a sparking splendour, now dull by dust and lack of maintenance and usage. They could only see outline of their figure in the mirrors now.

Ginny sat down on a faded velvet couch, nostalgically imagined the fine ladies that once used to purr tea in this room.

'You might want to sit down,' she noticed Harry was still standing.

'What is it so important? Why so secretive? Are you going tell me your secret engagement with Neville Longbottom?' He teased her, knowing fully well that she had long rejected Neville's courting request.

Ginny face flushed the colour of her hair, and threw a pillow at him. 'I am being serious. Stop teasing me. I have a plan to get Ron out.'

It was time for Harry to be speechless.

'What? But? No… How? ' He stuttered out monosyllabic sentences.

'I have a plan of course. We will go to the Capital, infiltrate Malfoy Manor, break in, and free my bother.'

'And just how are we supposed to accomplish that?'

She could practically hear the dripping disbelief in his voice, let alone seeing the scepticism on his face. She couldn't blame him for having so little faith in her, after all she was temperamental and rash most of time. But she did have some well-hidden innate female cunning, and she had no problem using it to rescue her bother. It was for a good cause.

'Simple. We'll use the girl.'

* * *

Hermione sat quietly through Harry's explanation, one hand supporting her chin, she looked thoughtful.

'So, you want me to use my connection to the Zabinis, get into Malfoy Manor, and rescue your friend.' She raised an eyebrow in question, eyes darted to Ginny. Harry thought she sounded a bit distant, disappointed even.

'Basically yes, that summarise the plan.' He answered uncomfortably.

'You are using me.' Blank as a matter of fact, without even a trace of displeasure or anything in her tone.

He opened his month to explain and apologise. He never got the chance, she cut him off with a weary, 'don't. I am used to it.'

He blatantly refused Ginny's proposal at first. After what they did, he couldn't just use her as a tool. He realised also that he didn't want her away either. Then Ginny's explanations sank in, he admitted that her plan was well thought and plausible, but still, he did not like the idea of using her. Then Ginny mentioned her bother, his best friend, Harry couldn't help but feeling guilty. He had to get Ron out, he owed that much to the Weasleys. Honour to be damned, loyalty was more important. It was alright to do it for a good cause, right? It was not like she would be harmed in anyway, right? The plan would work, right? He promised Ginny, and agreed to convince her to take part.

'If I can be some use, I will gladly help. After all, I owed you so. There are, however, some small flaws in your plan. Did you know that the Malfoys only use house elves? They are too paranoid at human servants. And the Duchess has not intended me to serve Miss anymore. I was to be release from my servitude when I reached the Malfoy estate.'

'But surely you can find a way to convince your mistress to take you back.' Ginny intercepted.

'I suppose. The problem is how to get to her.'

'Prefect. That's settled then. We'll worry about it later, I am sure we can figure that out once we are in there. I am going to pack, let's leave as soon as possible.' Ginny exited the room excitedly.

Once Ginny left, Harry turned and asked her: 'Why did the Duchess want to release you.'

She gave a little mirthless laugh, which sent prickle of chills down his spine. 'The official reason is that the Malfoys don't take human servants. As for the real reason, why would she want to place a girl who is no less prettier but a great deal sharper than her daughter close to her son-in-law? Pansy is beautiful, a lot more than myself, but she is a little green. The Duchess wouldn't want her son-in-law to lose interest in his wife before she can collect all her gains.'

Harry looked at her, and felt pangs of sympathy. She looked so small and so lost at the moment, eyes gazed absentminded into the fireplace, posture defensive with her arms wrap around her legs, like an abandoned child that longed for affection and care. She must have been hurt by the fact that being thrown out by a family that she served faithfully for many years just because she was a hypothetical threat, Harry thought. He wanted to reach out for her, to hold her. Yet his conscious was berating him at the same moment that he was pushing her into the snake pit. No, he didn't deserve her.

'I am sorry.' It came out as a mere whisper.

'Don't be, it's not your fault. I am happy to help'

* * *

They sneaked out of castle quietly during night. Harry had left a note for Sirius telling him that they will be gone and not to worry, because he knew Sirius would never approve such a mission. Ginny had prepared the necessities and a small carriage was ready. They took off into the country side towards their destination.

Hermione stared at the landscape with gloomy face for most part of the trip. The once productive field deserted, leaving overgrown weed to span over acres of land. Small villages dotted on the 

foot of the hills were empty and abandoned, as people preferred to live in the bigger town in time of wars. The shade of destruction was as depressing as the war itself.

'All for what?' They heard her whispered.

Crossing the borders was surprisingly easy. They took the desolate path through the forbidden forest. It was the path for those that were not afraid of werewolves, vampires or any other sinister creatures, there would be no guards there. They passed undisturbed, and reached the town near the Malfoy Estate safely.

The town was bursting with life with the sun rose, hardly any sign left from the war. All three had abandoned the carriage, and began to explore the dazzling town. Later, as they were sitting in an outdoor pub near the city gate, sipping butterbeer, Hermione suddenly looked up towards the town gate. There was a beautiful carriage stopped by the guards for inspection.

She turned to them with a bright smile, and was only greeted with confusion.

'We are in, or at least I am in the Malfoy Manor.' She stood up. 'Wait for me here everyday in the afternoon. I can't promise you I can come everyday, I will try as soon as possible. Don't count on seeing me anytime soon.' then began to walk towards the carriage.

'Wait, how are you going to get in?' Harry and Ginny both shocked and asked in chorus.

'Blaise Zabini.' She looked expectantly at the carriage.

* * *

Blaise Zabini was in a fool mood.

In fact, fool mood would be an understatement. He had never been so miserable in his whole for the past week. His half-sister's impending marriage was the cause of it, or more correctly, the fundamental cause was as always his mother's scheme.

He was a happy man before the announcement of Pansy's engagement, lived without a care in the world, except the fact he was busily and unsuccessfully wooing one Hermione Granger. Many would call him a womaniser like his grandfather, and regard him as his mother's son. Like his mother, he did attract attentions from the opposite sex, and had many flings. But unlike his mother, who did not have a heart at all and had many husband, he believed that he gave his to Hermione, and that he would never marry for the same purpose as his mother.

For the five years he had known her since her arrival, he did not pay her any attention at first. Back then, she was merely a bushy haired maid who spent a lot of time serving his mother, pretty enough but dreary. Two years later, she had metamorphosed into a stunning maiden. Aside the physical beauty, she was quick witted conversationalist, graceful in every gesture, elegant in every posture, almost like his mother save appearances. Yet she processed the innocence that his 

mother had lost long, and he found its appeal greater than any of his mother alluring façade. She was a dream too prefect to be true.

He was captivated by her, and sought her out every available moment, using his best charm to woo her. When other girls would have fallen to his charms long ago, she always responded politely to him with wit, propriety, kindness, and gentle rejections. It only fuelled his fruitless pursuit. He was captivated.

He did not believe any the nonsense his mother said in her own defence, all the talk with survival and necessities. He condemned his mother for using immoral means for the preservation of their estate, her so called obligation, that was no excuse to seduce and take advantage of men. Even thought he did not know how to rule an estate, but he still thought his mother's method was wrong. Taxes, land, and war were not something he cared or needed to worry about. He agreed with his mother in labelling him as a hopeless romantic, but that seemed to be the only thing they agreed on these days.

The first thing that went wrong was when his mother decided that Hermione's service would no longer be needed when she arrive in the Malfoy Estate with Pansy. Blaise was outraged by this decision, he was sure that it was made purposely against him, since his mother had expressed many time her disapproval about his romantic interest. But he soon found comfort in the fact that he could get to Hermione immediately after her dismissal and swiped her off her feet. He knew the chance he would succeed in the latter was slim, but it would be easy to keep her close, as she would be needing financial security at that time. Yes, he would use different means to achieve the end if necessary, he was his mother's son after all.

Then the insufferable men of the Black's side just had to kidnap the wrong person, as stupid as they were. Now, he had no idea where she was, even whether she was alive or not. He had not slept well for the past few days since her disappearance. To make matter worse, his mother not only seemed quite pleased about it, she also refused to attend her only daughter's wedding. The official excuse was she could not leave her estate due to her duty, but Blaise knew better. He remembered her saying something about Lucius Malfoy being disagreeable and offensive, probably the man had been the first and only to ever reject her, he deserved a medal, Blaise thought.

So all these events led him to where he was now, alone in his carriage, on his way to the Malfoy Manor and his sister's wedding, thinking about Hermione again.

Suddenly, the carriage came to an abrupt halt, almost threw him off his seat.

'Is this what you call driving?' He opened the window, and scolded the coachman.

'Sir, someone just ran in front of the carriage'

Then the voice of his dream glided from outside into his ears, the soft feminine voice that haunted his sleepless night,

'Mr. Zabini. May I speak with you?'

* * *

**A/N:** anyone still reading?? This is just my attempt in creative writing, and since I am always to lazy to invent names, I use the names in HP series, and label the story as AU.

The Malfoys will be coming up in the next chapter.


	5. Strength

**Disclaimer: **JKR is the rightful owner of everything HP related

**A/N**: still very AU.

* * *

**Strength**

_Lust/Strength Sublimation or regulation of the passions and lower instincts. Power, energy, great love. Spirit ruling over matter. Action, courage. Success. Powerful will and great physical strength. The inner strength to tame the lust._

* * *

'I don't get it. What did she mean?' Harry asked confused, as he stared at Hermione getting into the carriage clearly unease.

Ginny barely refrained in rolling her eyes. Men were always clueless.

'Zabini. Ring a bell? He is probably here for the wedding. In the Manor. Remember? She probably already got him under her spell, judging by the action of your kind back home. Naturally she will get him to take her into the Manor. It is prefect.'

Harry did not seem pleased with it, but Ginny knew that he was not pleased that another man was involved. It took her years to get any reaction from Harry concerning interaction between her and another man, yet a girl that popped up from nowhere had done it within a few days. Ginny was not even sure whether she got the unwanted brotherly protectiveness, or the more desirable jealousy, regrettably, she was however sure that it was the latter that Harry felt right now.

'I do record her saying something about having a hard time escaping the male Zabini. Shouldn't we follow them? What if he…'concern clearly in his voice.

'No, we are not following the carriage, it is madness. If we are caught, we'll be tortured, hanged or who knows what. If she was caught, which she wouldn't because she has a legitimate excuse, she could just charm her way out. Nothing will happen to her.' She said rather harshly.

She was tired, why couldn't men see the hold Hermione Granger had on them? She had yet to decide whether that hold was consciously gained or not, her logic told her no clues supported to the former so the latter must be true, but her heart refused to accept it, whether because of intuition or plain jealousy she did not know.

Harry stayed quiet.

She stayed quiet.

The carriage drove away.

* * *

He led her through the grandeur of Malfoy Manor. A house elf, one which clearly unhappy with the fact that he bought a human servant, was grumbling in a low tone in front of them, 'master only order Tippy serves master Zabini, not some silly girl, human servants not trustworthy as elves, master says himself.'

Blaise grinned at her, 'the house elves here are quite delusional, my new in laws have certainly put them on a too high pedestal.' He grinned to himself inwardly too, posing her as his maid was a brilliant idea, as she wanted to see his sister, and he wanted her close.

He didn't get any reply, as Hermione looked absorbed by their surrounding.

The gaudy décor flaunted the wealth of the lord of the manor with the high ceiling, the glistening crystal chandeliers, the priceless heirlooms and artefacts displayed in every corner, leaving undoubtedly every visitor in awe. Yet the soft black velvet curtains and the fragile painted porcelain stood in clashing contrast with sharp icy sword and assorted weapons hung imposingly on the wall, reminding any visitor of the unchallenging power their host wielded. Hung side by side the beautiful portraits of the past lords and ladies Malfoy were the paintings depicting the bloody victories of their past, vivid scenes of marching army, decapitated enemies, villagers pieced by a rain of arrows, and even more grotesque sight of the horrors of war.

Blaise felt her arm tensed around his, not surprising as he too found these paintings unfit for a grand hall, but he had to admit that they did create the intended frightening effect. This was the Malfoy Manor, like its master, basked in admiration and fear of the general public; extravagant yet rational, cold and impersonal yet able to scorch with an intense passion. He looked attentively at her, ready to ease any of her discomfort, only to find her face impassive, eyes that betrayed no emotions bore into the paintings.

He said tentatively and gestured towards a large painting ahead depicting a castle, 'the siege of the Castle Black. The closest the Malfoys ever got to winning the War. Quite an achievement isn't it, right in heart of the enemy, of course, it's doubtful that they will ever get that close any time soon.'

'Yes, quite doubtful. Sir.' She replied quietly and turned to him, 'do you know why they ever started the War?'

'There was something about Narcissa Malfoy,' he answered uncertain, regretting not listening to his mother's lecture about the War and politics, 'my mother mentioned something that she was killed by Sirius Black.'

'Really,' surprise evident in her voice, 'isn't Narcissa nee Black? His sister?'

'True, but I don't much about the true cause. All my mother knew was from speculation, and Draco never tells me anything about his mother. I wouldn't put it pass Black to do so, I heard he killed his cousin too.'

'Nobody seems to know why' He thought he could hear a tiny hint of resignation, and after a pause she asked him, 'do you know Draco Malfoy well? Milord.'

'Hermione, how many times did I tell you to call me Blaise.' The elf in front gave a little huff of indignation. 'But yes, we are friends long before his engagement ever since we met in a game of card. Of course mother didn't know that, she would hardly approve me gambling in a disputable inn. I don't think he ever told his father about it either.'

She smiled a little, 'shame on you. Gambling, alcohol, and duels seem to be the only ways your males can bond over.'

He replied as teasingly, 'you know us so well. And yes, we did have quite a few outings involving a large amount of alcohol, and few resulted in a friendly duel.'

Laughter echoed in the empty hall as Blaise recounted the humorous tells of their mischief.

'I certainly hope you are not entertaining the lady at my expense.' A silky voice caught their attention.

Blaise looked up to see Draco Malfoy leaning against the railing of a spiral staircase and gazing down at them, or more precisely at Hermione. He felt a pang of nerviness as he did not like the predatory look in his friend's eyes. Stealing a quick glance of Hermione, he was aware that she was curtseying aptly, not staring dumbfounded like other women usually do when they met them for the first time. He greeted his friend as he took a breath of relief, at least it did not appear so far that he would have competition, yet. He was well aware of his own handsomeness inherited from his mother, and he could not deny that Draco had received similar blessing. Both were flawless in appearances, yet they stood in prefect contrast, his held the dark mystifying appeal with tanned skin and black hair, but Draco's was the angelic lure, with the distinctive Malfoy silvery blond hair and grey eyes.

But he was no angel, Blaise knew. If he didn't have the name or fortune of Malfoy, Blaise would never have consented his sister's engagement. They were friends, shallow friends, in the sense of sharing liquor and jokes, never serious thought or opinions. To any outsider, it was easy to believe that they were close with their many similarities, like having one dominating parent, being rich, handsome, and a corinthian. Blaise knew better, he had tried to get to know the person underneath the mischievousness, only be shunned by another icy front, one cold, compassionless, and impenetrable. He pitied his sister for marrying such a man.

As for now, his immediate worry was to how to get pass his friend, more precisely, to get Hermione pass.

'Draco, it has been quite a while. So tell me, how is my sister? Let's go find someplace to catch up.' He made himself sound joyous. Then he hurriedly turned to Hermione and added, 'my maid by the way, He,Helen. Elf, take her to her room.'

'Have you already got tired of the other girl? Harmony or something?' His friend teased and openly scrutinised Hermione, who followed the house elf. Blaise did not know if he was off the hook or not, one thing he knew about Draco Malfoy was that one could never tell what he thought or felt by his expression, verbally and facially.

'Let's go open a bottle of wine first, shall we?' Desperately wanted to change the topic, he regretted inwardly that he spilt his secret about Hermione after a drunken night.

'Of course, I have a bottle of excellent vintage ready upstairs.' Blaise followed his friend and noticed him glancing one last time at the lithe retreating figure.

* * *

Dinner with the Malfoys was an extravagant affair. Though it was not a joyous or easy affair, Blaise had the feeling that it would never end, he envied his sister for being able to take her supper in her room. Courses after courses of delicacy did not make up for the overly refined table etiquette, the silence between him and the two Malfoys, and the discomfort he felt. He thought dinner with his mother was bad enough, but this one topped the sum of all dinners he had with his mother.

He was so thankful of a break when a house elf trembled in front of its master.

'Master. The ward is, the ward is broken.' The terrified house elf squeaked inaudibly.

'Speak clearly, elf.'

Lucius Malfoy was a very, very intimidating man, Blaise decided.

'The anti-apparation ward is broken.' A barely audible mumble came from the elf.

'Impossible! I set the wards myself.' The eldest Malfoy shot the quivering elf an icy glare, 'who did it?'

'Don't, don't know.' The elf looked as if it were facing death.

'Useless,' to the elf. To him, 'Mr. Zabini, I regret that our dinner has him interrupted, there is an urgent matter in hand. Would you please leave us.'

'Of course.' Blaise did not need to be told twice.

'I think I might have an idea, father.'

He heard Draco Malfoy said as he hurried out of the dining room, then he heard a crack.

* * *

A figure materialised in the thin air accompanied by loud crack. Another muffle bang was heard as a heavy book was dropped on the carpet floor. For the first time in his life, he had apparated in the Manor.

Obviously, his apparation was not expected by the other occupant of the room, who turned, abruptly causing several curls to fall from her messy bun. With a few stride, Drace Malfoy reached the bookshelf where Hermione Granger stood rooted in shock. Her eyes widened initially, but narrowed at him in question seconds later. He studied her reaction suspiciously, unable to believe anyone could act so well, he came to the conclusion that she was indeed surprised, but it did not mean that he had stop suspecting her.

'I see that you have found the library,' he drawled silkily, 'already taking such liberty does not become of proper maid.' Bending down, he picked up the dropped book, flipped a few pages before placing it back on the shelf, steel eyes drill into hers.

She curtseyed hastily, head inclined slightly but enough to be polite as she raised her eyes to meet his. 'Milord, you startled me. Master Zabini had told me that you have a wonderful collection of books, so I asked the house elf to show me. Since it bought me here I assumed that'

'You assume too much. Girl.' He cut her off, and inwardly amused himself by thinking how much he sounded like his father. However, his amusement evaporated as soon as he saw her reaction, one not so typical. She did not seem to be intimidated, instead of the usual interest in the floor of the recipient of such a tone, she lifted her head and met his eyes daringly. Anger quickly rose in him, presumptuous girl, he gritted in his mind.

Taking a step closer, he cornered her. Her svelte body pressed against the bookshelf, and dangerously close to touch his. Towering over her, he clasped one hand tightly around one of her arm, with the other he lifted her chin forcefully up to face him, and smirked.

'How did you break the anti-apparation ward?' Slowly and menacingly, he drawled out each word.

He saw her brow furrowed and eyes clouded in confusion, splendour acting on her part it must be.

'What are you taking about? Anti-apparation ward?'

'Don't fool with me. I know you are not you appeared to be. Helen. Is that even your real name? Blaise doesn't have maids, especially not one named Helen. Don't you think I know? The ward can only be taken down while the wizard is inside the Manor. There hadn't been anybody other than you here. How did you break it?' Snarling, as he pressed her further into the bookshelf.

She laughed, she actually had the nerve to laugh, and nobody laughs at a Malfoy. Subconsciously his grip tightened on her arm.

'Milord, I see your logic, but you missed a tiny little fact. In case you haven't notice, I can't do magic. I have no idea what ward or apparation you are talking about.' She said with an arch eyebrow as if mocking him, his grip tightened further, and this time she winced from the pain. 'Would you kindly let go of me.'

'We will see.' One hand still clasped to her arm, he held his wand with the other. They disappeared in the same fashion as he appeared.

They appeared in his father's study again, and found themselves being pointed with a wand by Luicus Malfoy.

'What is the meaning of this?' his father said sternly and lower his wand, 'who is she?' looking at the girl that fell to the ground, clearly feeling unwell from the apparation, and was only upright by his hold.

'Zabini's maid, though I doubt she is actually his maid, claimed to be non-magical, the only stranger in the Manor. What a coincident that she just arrived with him, and then the ward is down, I believe she did it.'

'This girl? Impossible, only Dumbledore and his protégés know how to deal with these wards.' Lucius declared irrefutably, then turned away and murmured a string of names, 'Dumbledore, McGonagall, Riddle, Black, Snape.' seemingly lost in thoughts.

'She could be a spy of Black, and he taught her the way.' Draco argued.

A definite snort could be heard from the girl in question, who seemed to have made herself comfortable on the floor and was busily arranging the hem of her dress with her free hand. He yanked her other arm again.

'You are my son yet you haven't been able to learn how to break it.' It was the usual note of dismissal and condescending tone in his father's voice, he noticed. But it did not stir any emotions on his face, he knew. And it did not affect him in any way, he convinced himself. As he blocked any thought that was forming in his mind, he had yet to succeed in stopping the familiar spiralling sensation in his gut, totally unaware of his once again tighten grip and the deep shade of red forming on the girl's arm beneath his clasp.

Then at a sound of crack, both Malfoys had their wands pointed in the direction of the noise, where hooded man materialized.

'Hello, Lucius.' The man said with a hissing quality in his voice.

'Mr. Riddle,' Lucius nodded.

'Did I interrupt something?' an amusement in Riddle's tone, as Draco noticed that he had yet to relinquish his hold on the girl.

'Just my incompetent son foolishly thought a silly girl could break my ward.' His father said causally. He did not notice the girl winced from pain again.

A cold snigger and followed by 'How foolish. I broke your ward. It is getting too bothersome, apparation is far more convenient way of travel, don't you think, Lucius.'

'How? You were not inside! But of course, if anyone could do it, it would be you.' The note of disbelieving in his father's voice was obvious, and he himself had a hard time believing that anyone could break the ward from outside too.

'Let's continue this talk in private, shall we?'

'Certainly.' His father turned to them with a simple order, 'leave.'

A loud crack was heard again.

They landed in the library, and like before the girl sank to the ground.

After processing the event that just happened, he came to the bitter conclusion that this girl he was still clasping did not break the ward. Tom Riddle did it, who was a protégée of Dumbledore before his father, most capable in magic than any other wizard save Dumbledore, and he had called on his father several times before, strangely all coincided with major events in the War.

He pulled the girl up close again, and studied her. Most of her hair had escaped her bun, and made her even more like a feisty hellcat with the wild curls. Her eyes stared challengingly at him, soft brown collided with icy silver, one corner of her lip was curled up a fraction of a degree, sending him a silent 'I told you so.' Defiance was something he had never experienced before her, this time, instead of his initial anger, he was intrigued.

'Do not think you have escaped, I will be watching you.' A slightly teasing warning, a smirk, a toy with a strand of her curl, a whirl with his wand, and a crack.

He left.

* * *

**A/N**: Any criticism to the writing is welcome. The only way to improve is to know the errors.

There will be 23 chapters in total, as in 23 major arcana tarot cards, the chapters' names. Updates might not be regular, but I have the story all planned out, so it will be completed. Only God knows when.

Just a warning, not everything is as it seems. All will be reveal in later chapters, but there are hints around. I will get to the angst and M rated stuff later.


	6. The Sun

**Disclaimer: **HP was not mine, is not mine, will never be mine

**A/N:** a short chapter as an apology for a long absence. I just graduated, so I have a month to write before going on vacation in July. I suppose there will be 2 or 3 updates in June. The previous chapters are revised, there are some small changes.

* * *

**The Sun**

_The Sun Glory. Material happiness. Happy marriage or relationship, collaboration. Success. Pleasure. Energy, motivation, inspiration to others._

* * *

Pansy was pleased when her bother sought out her company after supper. She greeted him in the proper manner, offered him tea in the proper manner, and started the conversation in the proper manner, which included inquiry of their mother's health, brief statement about her contentment in the manor, and question about his journey. As their conversation went on, it moved into less proper areas, and into the subject in which only bother and sister shared.

'Seriously. You can not have a liaison with a servant.'

'Remember, she wasn't born in servitude.'

'So? She is still one anyway.' Pansy did not like her bother's defence of the girl that was once her maid. She might like her as a maid, but definitely not as a sister-in-law.

'Her background is not as simple as you think.'

'Why is it not simple?' Pansy was surprise at the certainty in his voice. 'She is just a poor pitiful orphan that mother took in'

'Since when did mother do charitable deed?' Blaise offered an excellent point.

True, it was unlikely that their mother would do anything that does not benefit her. Why did she take in Hermione anyway? 'Maybe she felt sorry for her, and, and, or Hermione does her job properly?' She offered a weak explanation to her own question.

'I don't think it is a coincidence she came the same day as that man arrived. Remember him? Five years ago?' He accentuated his next words, 'the one that changed your...'

Pansy quickly interrupted him. 'Don't you ever mention it again. Don't you dare tell anyone about it.' She was so shocked at his mention of the unspeakable day that she did not play any attention to the association. 'Mother said it was a secret, you promised never to mention it. I… I will tell mother if you do.' She stumbled out her words.

'Don't worry, sister. Your secret is safe with me.'



* * *

She did not find his words reassuring. Maybe his words wasn't that not reassuring, but simply her entire life is not reassuring. Bidding farewell to her bother, she sank back in her chair. She thought about if she would have been happier to keep living like five years ago, at least then she would not have to fear about someone finding out the truth.

She have acted in the utmost proper manner of a lady, even with her looks, her husband-to-be had not sparred her another look after their introduction. She did not understand what was wrong, she understood that he might have been forced to this nuptial by his father, but at least he could carried out the proper duties of a fiancé.

She would have to ask mother for help, especially since her ex-maid was here now. She might not have her mother's skill in seduction, but she had the skills to recognise a threat. She might not have love her husband yet, but she was not about to have her impending marriage spoiled.

The Duchess Zabini was worried. Clutching to the letter Pansy had sent her, a rare frown line adorned her face. Realising the distasteful facial expression she sported, she quickly rearranged it, although she was certain many men would have described her frown as adorable, but there was no need to cause any premature winkles.

She was slightly concerned that the girl posed a threat towards her daughter's marriage. However, she was more worried about the matter she could not figure it out. It was him that gave her daughter beauty, and she was sure that he had a part in Malfoy's proposal, so it should mean that he wanted, or at least consented, the union to take place. But then why was the girl there, the girl that he put in her care. What had he possibly to gain from if the girl ruined this union. She snorted at her ridiculous thought that he might have wanted a rift between Malfoy and her son. She knew that his plan must be darker, but she had nothing to fear as long as she stayed out of his way. Their corroboration still stood, she had done her part, and he had left her alone so far. No matter what, whatever he wished, she better not interfered.

She did not reply Pansy's letter.

* * *

**A/N:** anyone understands this chapter?? It might be confusing, but will make sense when everything is revealed. Or is there anyone that can guess the hint?


End file.
